


The Concubine

by fellowwriter



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 07:39:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19942576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fellowwriter/pseuds/fellowwriter
Summary: Papa III has eyes for His Cardinal, but both men must deal with the temper of The Third's concubine.





	The Concubine

“She’s been with me for quite some time.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Exclusively, I might add.”

The Cardinal stared down at the red biretta he held in his lap. He still nursed a grievance against The Third and preferred to be anywhere but in his company.

“I didn’t request this.” Copia spoke carefully. “She did.”

Papa III stood up and harrumphed.

“She summoned you to be my plaything.”

In an instant he was across the room, standing in front of Copia, holding his chin in his glove and forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Wait for her,” Copia advised. “Neither of us needs the wrath of your concubine.”

Papa scowled, still holding his chin, sneering down as he pulled up his vestments to reveal nothing underneath.

Copia swallowed and Papa felt it and tightened his grip, gently forcing his mouth open. Papa always liked his mouth: how his lips parted to reveal his teeth, the sight of his wet tongue between his pillowy lips, and how he imagined the tickle of his mustache would feel. He brushed his thumb across his lower lip, knowing Copia would always obey His Pope, and imagining the groans that would soon escape his throat.

Copia stayed still as The Third’s pelvis inched closer, refusing to look at the cock that hung precariously close to his chin.

“You should get used to the taste before she arrives,” Papa said coldly, stroking Copia’s jaw and then pulling it down.

Copia wanted to swat his hand away, to curse at him, and to harm him in such a way that he would never be touched again. But her temper could be worse, and he didn’t want to face her alone.

“Open,” Papa grumbled. “You’re going to swallow everything I give you.”

Stalling, Copia slowly licked his lips before Papa huffed, his hand over his throat, forcing his mouth open as he gasped for air.

Copia sputtered as Papa pushed to the back of his throat at a downward angle, sighing at the bristly feeling of Copia’s mustache sliding over him. Copia’s mouth was everything he had imagined, and he moved his hand to the back of his head, stroking his hair softly.

Copia felt strange as Papa held his head. He had never been shown any affection, and when he looked up, His Pope’s eyes were on him.

Papa reached for Copia’s hand and placed it on his bare hip, still holding his head as Copia’s mouth tightened, a trickle of saliva and pre-cum sliding down his throat. Papa had never asked for his touch before, and it upset Copia that he now had this growing warm feeling caused by the person he found most despicable.

“Good,” Papa praised him, staring down at His Cardinal.

Copia felt both gloves slide lightly over his ears, fingers probing his jawline, and then Papa moaned when he felt the bulge in Copia’s cheek with his fingertips.

When both hands slid back up through his sideburns into his hair, Copia closed his eyes.

Papa was surprised and pleased when a muffled sound of contentment escaped His Cardinal.

“Enjoy your Papa,” he whispered, and the words bothered Copia, causing his brow to furrow. He gripped Papa’s hip tightly, and Papa responded with a gentle thrust forward, watching intently as more of his cock disappeared.

“Boys!”

The shout startled both of them, and Copia groaned loudly when Papa tugged his hair and pulled away, the red biretta falling to the floor as Copia stood up hastily.

“I asked you to wait.” She looked irritated. They would never be men in her eyes.

“You took too long,” Papa explained, already defending himself.

Copia stayed still as she approached, kicking his biretta away with her foot.

“No respect for your vestments,” she chided as she pulled on his askew grucifix to straighten it.

Before Copia could apologize, she already moved on.

“What is on your face?” She shouted it, and Copia flinched at her tone. She knew what the transparent threads were that covered his lips and chin, and Copia didn’t dare answer and make the situation worse.

She roughly grabbed his sideburns and shoved her tongue between his lips. Copia kept his eyes shut tight until it was over.

“How dare you,” she said icily as she smacked her lips.

Papa intervened, putting a hand on her shoulder, and she brushed it off harshly.

“What is wrong?” Papa continued.

“Try him,” she barked, and Papa stood in front of Copia, their eyes meeting again.

Papa kissed his pillowy lips softly, tenderly, and Copia felt warm all over.

“Tongue,” she ordered, and Copia’s eyes snapped shut as Papa explored his mouth. He hated that he liked how Papa’s lips felt, and how he held his head and neck.

Copia swallowed and looked away after Papa finished.

“It’s not what I was expecting,” Papa admitted. “But it’s not unpleasant, is it?”

“No, but it’s disrespecful.”

“I’m not following.” He shrugged at her.

“Papa, he tastes like your brother.”

“She’s lying, Papa. I would never.” Copia spoke the truth—he was loyal to his Papa. But as soon as the words escaped his lips, he regretted them.

Her open palm landed squarely across his cheek, and Copia winced and blinked as he continued to look straight ahead.

The Third narrowed his eyes and sucked in his breath.

“You visit my chambers and disrespect her this way?”

“Papa—”

“Do you want him or do you want me, eh?” Papa questioned.

“I wasn’t, Papa… I didn’t.”

Copia flinched when Papa lifted his hand, but Papa stroked the red mark she left on this cheek with the back of his knuckles.

“He’s betrayed you, Papa,” she hissed. “Let’s make him confess.”

“And how would we do dat?”

“Tie him to our bed.”

Papa stroked Copia’s cheek softly, entertaining the idea.

“Tell me the truth, now,” Papa hummed. “Him, or me.” He nodded to Copia about which answer he should give.

Copia was hard beneath his cassock and hated himself for it. Papa’s touch felt warm and inviting, and when he finally looked into His Pope’s eyes, his heart raced.

Papa noticed the twitch under Copia’s cassock and held his gaze as he slid his hand down his neck, chest, and circled his abdomen. When he grasped Copia’s crotch, The Cardinal groaned.

Papa leaned in, and Copia’s mouth opened in anticipation.

“Him,” Papa said in a low whisper, his tongue swiping Copia’s lower lip, “or me.”

Copia sighed when Papa kissed him and kissed him back, letting him push their tongues together as he leaned into Papa’s hand.

“You,” Copia whispered when Papa broke the kiss, but his eyes were on the woman. His mouth stayed open, regaining his breath as he watched her. Papa’s hand held him firmly, and he knew what His Pope wanted—what he must do.

Papa kissed him again when he finally said the words: “Both of you.”


End file.
